


Credibility

by LittleSpider



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Straight Sex, Teasing, minor fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpider/pseuds/LittleSpider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission goes slightly wrong, Clint needs to prove his credibility as a man. Natasha is more than happy to give him that chance.</p>
<p>Mostly Clint's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Credibility

“You had one job, Clint.”

Natasha pulled the clip on pearl earrings from her ears and threw them onto the dressing table before undoing the pearl choker around her neck.

Clint strolled in quietly, his hands tucked into his pockets sheepishly.

“It’s not my fault.”

She turned around on her heel, her red curls bouncing with the smooth movement, her cheeks were ablaze and her eyes were on fire.

“The mission plan was…” she began, folding her arms and pushing her bosom up to a distracting level. “I distract the guy, you taint his drink. I drag him to the hotel room and we begin our interrogation.”

“I got that.” he responded pointedly. “Shit went south.”

“Pour the capsule into his drink and get clear. That was your only job.”

“His wife was sat right next to the glass, Tasha.”

“So? You should be used to distractions in th—”

“—In the field, yes.” he replied, rolling his eyes. “But, she was sat right there, right beside it.”

“You could have flirted with her. Sat next to her and pulled the old charm, whispered sweet nothings in her her ear—”

“She was 65.”

She threw her arms back down in disbelief.

“And HE was seventy and I was prepared to let him cop a feel to get him into interrogation!”

“Well excuse me if I can’t switch my libido on with the flick of a switch!”

“What is THAT meant to mean?”

“Just because you can act all giggly, flirty and breathy, push your tits up and get a guy to roll over and twitch doesn’t mean that I can.”

Natasha resisted the urge to point out he didn’t have tits and sighed.

“Fake it. Clint…Just fake it, next time. It doesn’t matter. We got the information.”

Clint sighed.

“Even If I was faking it. It would feel like me cheating on you.”

She looked to him, her lips parting in surprise.

“Clint, she was 65.”

“Don’t question my moral compass, Nat. It’s a bit fucked.”

Natasha smiled at him indulgently and stroked his cheek softly. “You old romantic…”

He squirmed away like a kid confronted with his mothers handkerchief and smiled. “Just get out of that fucking dress and let me see the goods before I lose all of my credibility as a man.”

She would have playfully slapped him any other time but right now the tenseness in his jaw and the tightening around his eyes told her that he was holding his lust back on a choke-chain.

Sliding off the black, figure hugging black dress she revealed her shoulders to him before slowly sliding the luxurious black dress down her body, past her hips to her thighs and then letting it drop to the floor.

She had dressed purposefully this evening. The black cocktail dress for her target, the silk black panties with the lace purple trim for Clint.

Purple, was Clint’s favourite colour.

It was accented into his uniform, it was the colour of his bedsheets, his coffee mug, even the chewed pencils on his desk at SHIELD were purple.

She knew that he’d love it when she saw them in the catalogue and guaranteed they wouldn’t be on her body for long.

His mouth dropped open visibly as his eyes strolled the contours of her body, lingering on her new lingerie.

Clint had seen Natasha naked more times than he could recall.

First on missions while they had been sharing close quarters and he had accidentally walked in on her changing or showering. Then again, so had she…

Then as they became intimate more and more.

Natasha had a fucking hot body, that was for certain…but sometimes, she gift wrapped it.

When he had regained the power of rational speech and thought that didn’t consist of ways of getting her undressed as quickly as possible, on the bed with her legs wrapped around his head he walked forwards slowly, taking her in as she stood there, a cryptic smile on her lips and let his hand stroke over the contour of her waist.

He fucking loved Natasha’s body.

Her flawed pale skin that was patterned with scars here and there that still burned a fire in her eyes when she referred to them in private.

The firmness of the muscle coupled with the softness of her hips, the smoothness of her breasts, the tightness of her ass.

He pulled her in close to his body and let her feel the hardness that was making his tailored pants suddenly very uncomfortable.

She let out a soft laugh, brushing her thigh against him as he buried his face in her neck, cupping her backside with the other hand, making her body is own personal paradise.

“…Nat, you’re gonna kill me with this shit one day…”

“I don’t think you can die from a raging erection.” She replied, her face nuzzling his hair.

“I think if any woman could make a guy die from that it would be you.” he muttered, his lips brushing the tender skin on her neck. “I know I say this…” he mumbled, dragging his attention from her soft breasts. “…alot, but…” he looked into her eyes. “…I’m so fucking glad that they sent me to take you out.”

She pressed an impulsive kiss to his lips.

And that was it.

He had held back more than long enough to appreciate the tone of seduction she was trying to get to but he’d been a patient boy all night and now he wanted to indulge himself.

Pushing her backwards he pinned her to the bed as much as she would let him and buried his face into the bulge of her breasts, kissing every terse inch of flesh that was bound up in this beautiful lace annoyance.

She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing her pelvis against his abdomen insistently as his tongue ran the soft crevice where her breasts met.

He gave her a heated, lustful look, his eyes hazy with impatient desire as he began to undo his belt buckle on the smart grey suit pants. Easing the tension in his groin.

“…I want to eat you out, Nat.” he began thickly, his cheeks flushed.

She closed her eyes and gave a soft, pleased groan.

She loved him to talk dirty to her.

“…do it…please…I need it…”

He gave a grin and shuffled back so he was kneeling between her legs over the edge of the decadently luxurious bedding.

He pushed her legs apart softly before tucking his fingers into the taut elastic of the waistband of the purple and black panties, sliding the delicate panties down her thighs and over her knees.

She looked down at him to see him discard them to the floor and look up at her.

The way he looked at her made her ache inside for something more than his tongue.

Loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt he gave her a promising smile before moving down between her thighs, inches from her soft, slick lips.

He closed his eyes, his coarse fingertips dragging down the soft, tender skin on the back of her thighs as he gripped them in his strong fingers.

She gave a soft groan of supplication. A smile snagged in his cheek as he recalled her sensitivity on her thighs, the back of her knees, her calves…

He pressed a soft kiss to her thigh, gently brushing his nose to it, breathing against her tenderness.

He could feel the trembling in her thigh, he could feel the tenseness in her muscles. He knew how tightly wound up she was.

“…You need me…Tasha?” he mumbled against her thigh.

“…Clint, you know I do.”

He smiled against her thigh.

“…You know how much I love to eat you out…how fucking good it feels to bury my tongue inside you…”

She writhed against the bed, fighting weakly against the hold he had on her thighs.

“…Be patient…” he teased, smirking against her thigh.

“…fuck…” she swore and gripped the pillow under her head.

He gave a low rumble of a laugh, biting at her thigh gently.

She gave another impatient growl.

Clint knew that if he made her wait any longer she’d lose her temper and he’d be spending a lonely night on the rooms modest couch.

Kissing her thigh a final time, he moved forwards and began to kiss the wet, pink lips of her pussy.

She gave a deep sigh of relief that he felt shudder through her as he smiled, licking the softness of her, tasting the sweetness of her, slipping his tongue into the soft, wet pinkness of her.

She was fucking dynamite.

He gripped her thighs with renewed vigour, pushing his face more deeply into her tenderness as her fist found his hair again and tugged.

His kisses were sucking, sensitive.

He wanted his entire face covered in her essence. He wanted to taste her on his lips, he wanted her to taste herself on his lips. He wanted to bury himself in her and fucking worship her.

“Oh God…” she moaned softly as his nose brushed her clit.

He gave a grin and leaned back a little to look at her.

“…You like that baby? You want me to suck on it…?”

She nodded her hand hidden in her hair, her other hand on the top of his head, pushing him back.

He leaned back in and began to lick slowly at the tender bulge of swollen flesh.

She gave a long, languid moan of pleasure as he concentrated his efforts on her clit, aching in the pit of her stomach for an orgasm she could feel building.

He sucked slowly on it, his fingers stroking her thighs, his nails slightly grazing her flesh.

He wanted her to scream her head off, cry out his name and let the world know he’d given her a mind blowing orgasm, he wanted her to lie there afterwards, dazed with pleasure.

He knew with every lick, every suck, every soft, slow kiss between her thighs she was getting closer to the edge.

She was getting tense her thighs were flexing involuntarily, her breathing was getting faster, her moans weaker.

“I’m…I’m near…Clint…”

He looked up at her from between her legs briefly and muttered:

“…Come for me, Tasha.”

His roughly bobbed his tongue against the swollen ball of flesh between her legs a few more times and she cried out for him, her entire body shaking, her hips bucking wildly.

Clint licked her slowly, bringing her through the final waves of her climax that devestated her body before pulling back and admiring his handiwork.

She lay, her eyes closed, a smile on her pink face, her hair plastered to her forehead as her hand rested lazily on her heaving chest.

He was fucking ecstatic with his work.

Sitting back on the bed, he removed his jacket and rested it over the chair as she regained her composure, he could feel her essence drying on his lips, his cheeks.

She reached over for him and smiled, her hand on his arm.

“Enjoy that?” he smiled.

“…did you…?” she teased and sat up, kissing him.

He ran his hands into her hair, as her hands went for his shirt buttons.

She had had her teaser, now she wanted the main act.

He helped her undo his shirt and slid it off as her hands found his arm muscles.

His lips twisted into a grin beneath hers as she sampled the hardness of his arm muscles.

She was a sucker for his arms. Pulling back he helped her get his pants off, and boxers with them, shoving them roughly down his legs.

Shedding the remained of his clothing he moved between her legs, pushing her back against the bed again as she looked up into his eyes, a mix of mischief and lust in the mesmerizing green.

He leaned down, kissing her hungrily as he slid into her.

She gave him a soft bite on his lip as he entered her which he gave a low growl to before smiling, pulling back enough to gaze into her eyes.

She was smiling up at him her hand in his hair as he let his full length slide slowly into hot, tight depths.

“You look so fucking gorgeous right now baby.” he rumbled, savouring the image before him.

He felt himself yanked down to meet her lips as he began to thrust into her, building up a slow, steady rhythm.

He felt like moving like a fucking jack-rabbit inside her. Rough, fast and coming hard but he forced himself to hold out and give her a hell of a fucking ride as long as it would take to hear her moan for him again.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper, her hands running up and down his back, squeezing his ass.

“Fuck…You’re fucking gorgeous Tasha…” he buried his head in her breasts still in their soft, silky prison. He began to kiss at her tits, his hips meeting hers as she arched against him. “…You’re fucking beautiful…” he mumbled.

She gave a soft gasp as he pushed harder, his cock pounding her G Spot.

He looked back up at her and with a single glance knew what she needed him to do, pulling out, he eased her thighs up and over his shoulders, sliding back into her, going deeper than he had.

“…Fuck me…Please fuck me.” she begged.

He could have made her beg more, but the pleading in her voice told him he couldn’t hold out on her.

He began to pound at her, fucking her hard and fast, hearing the pleasure as she groaned his name, over and over, becoming almost delirious with delight.

He felt fucking fantastic. He could do this all night, every position she wanted, for hours and hours, for as long as she wanted him but he was getting close.

How he had managed this long without blowing his load was a fucking miracle.

Her breasts were bouncing against the lace bra, her cheeks flooding with colour, the sound of impending pleasure on her voice, her tight, hot pussy throbbing around his hard cock, her hands, her nails driven into his ass.

Fuck.

He was close…

“Come for me, Tash…Come for me…I need you…I need you to come for me baby…” he urged, holding her legs against his shoulders as he bucked his hips into her, bouncing off of her ass.

She was pushing against him hard, working for her second climax.

He pounded into her a few more times before she gripped his arms and shook around him, moaning out his name, her entire body quivering under him.

“Tasha!!” he groaned and came hard. He thrust a final few times into her, before resting, letting her legs drop and burying himself in her shoulder, breathing hard against her sweat soaked neck.

She wrapped her arm around him, nuzzling his neck and pressing sweet, soft kisses to it as he recovered his head where it had spun to dizzy heights.

Pulling back and getting back onto his elbows, still buried deep inside her he looked at her.

She was wearing that smile.

That fucking smart-ass smile that he loved.

“…Feel like a man, now?” she breathed against his lips.

“Oh…hell yeah.” he mumbled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.


End file.
